


quick sketch

by gouachepile



Category: Eyeshield 21
Genre: F/M, Haha wow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:07:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22998166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gouachepile/pseuds/gouachepile
Summary: Their smiles were reflected in each other. You could see it in the way they grinned in that moment, the cheers of the crowd filling the stadium. Mirroring the victory.-Hiruma/Mamori scraps (summary isn't referring to the drabbles)
Relationships: Anezaki Mamori/Hiruma Youichi
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

“Mamori-nee-san’s been really focused on the environment lately,'' Sena said. He, Monta, and Suzuna were enjoying a brisk walk down the street where the Devilbats usually ran laps, the activity also known as Devilbat High Speed Racing. The grass by their feet leaned sharply as three pairs of fast feet flew by - a slightly slower Devilbat run, rollerblades, and an extremely obnoxious pair of cheetah print sneakers sped past on the sidewalk, almost too fast to glimpse with the naked eye.

Suzuna tilted her head, hair breezing in the wind, and hummed. “Yeah… now that I think about it, that does seem to be true. Mamo-nee’s emails always include an update about the Saikyoudai campus and their trees, and Brazil’s policies on the Amazon or something these days. Do you think she’s tried the Shinryuuji waterfall?” She whipped her head excitedly to face Sena and Monta. “Do you think You-nii has given her a tree-thrower instead of a flame-thr--”

Sena clapped a hand over her mouth. “ _Suzuna.. I suggest you not say anymore._ ” He looked frantic and pale, whipping his head about for any hidden blond Satans. Monta looked about the same. Their faces were desperately stricken in the afternoon light. “A-ah don’t bring up… bad memories!” Monta hissed. He avoided a passing bike and struck a Catch Max tinged with absolute horror, emphasizing the traumatizing memory. Sena gave a strained smile in support. “Besides, there’s no way anyone could get their hands on a tree-thr…”

The three paused in a steep silence. Hiruma.

“Well, I support Mamori-san in every endeavor, no matter what it is!” Monta exclaimed. He rushed on ahead, and the other two quickly caught up.

“Yeah! Me too,” Suzuna pushed forward, wheeling around. The sun caught in the indigo of her hair, making it flash in the same way the stadium banners did, the crowds cheering, cheering, cheering. “Really, though, you gotta wonder! What made Mamo-nee go so green?”

-

Mamori finished packing up her folders, and tucked them all neatly in her backpack. The environmental club had just adjourned, and she was just about to head out the cafe door when she saw a flash of yellow, just by the entrance. Hiruma. How curious. Practice was in an hour, and the field certainly wasn’t by the club’s cafe of choice. She stepped out to meet him.

“Practice today, fucking manager. Don’t be late again.” He was leaning against the doorframe. Eyes as sharp as ever, boring into Mamori’s own. “Last time you almost made red eyes cry.”

Mamori tucked her hair back and walked with him towards the nearest subway entrance, noting the way Hiruma’s eyes followed the notion. They snapped back to hers again in an instant, the grin on his face shifting just a sliver sharper. She smiled. “Akaba-kun was more concerned about you holding his guitar hostage, I believe. I was only tardy by a minute, anyways! There was-”

“A sale on those fucking fattening cream disasters, yeah? You should’ve handed the package for the fucking fatty to me first, so I could’ve included a special hell-raising weapon. He needs to beat Shuei next week, you know.” Hiruma smirked at her, turning the corner. Mamori hid a smile and followed, stepping into the station. She swiped her card and waited while Hiruma leered threateningly at the attendant who let him pass without paying at the sight of his little black book. In sync, they advanced down the grungy subway stairs.

“Kurita-kun won’t put out without a fight, no matter how tough Takami-kun and Yukimitsu-kun are. You know things will turn out fine in the end,” Mamori murmured, stretching behind her to open her backpack for a pen. Thin fingers nudged her own out of the way, and Hiruma unzipped the pocket for her. He clicked his tongue and tossed her a pen, then zipped things back up securely. Mamori smiled in thanks.

“Che, fucking manager and your fucking rainbows-and-kitties ideas.”

“Yes,” she replied. The sound of the rushing train cascaded into their platform. She turned to face his sharp, ever knowing eyes, and stepped through the doors, knowing Hiruma was right behind her. “My fucking ideas, hm?”

-

It was only later that night that she realized how odd it was that Hiruma had met her after environmental club in the first place.

Alone in her dorm, Mamori drummed her fingers against Saikyoudai’s folders of football notes. Deep in her thoughts, she only just noticed the ink from the pen he had handed her on the platform just hours earlier catching the lamp light on the back of her hand.

 _Eco meeting with fifth-graders next Friday._ It was scrawled crookedly, shaky from the train movement as it headed to the Saikyoudai campus. Hiruma had smirked at her analog mechanisms, glancing pointedly at her phone the whole ride there as they stood together pressed along the train car side.

Why had he come to the club meeting? It wasn’t like him to show up. Despite her constant advocacy of being more eco-friendly (and the conversations were working! Yamato-kun even showed up to practice that day with a receipt of his purchase of two second hand couches), Hiruma had never openly expressed being interested in conservation. At first, it had frustrated her, but then she read some research about radicalism making people more defensive instead of accepting. A week later, she glimpsed Hiruma looking at the recycling label on his water bottle. After that, she kept her activism slightly more on the subtle side, for that extra push.

Perhaps Hiruma was more interested in becoming green now. Mamori snickered as she thought of the image, the devil himself protesting peacefully at green marches. Maybe he wasn’t going to change that drastically. Even so… she lingered on the ink on her hand once again, thoughtful. Perhaps the fifth graders would like some devilish company.


	2. Chapter 2

Hiruma stood at the sidelines of the field, watching his team pack up for the day. Practice had extended long into the evening light, and as he wiped the sweat off his face he noted the sense of satisfaction he felt. It was a feeling he had wanted so desperately back in his first year of Deimon, this kind of stable joy. 

Damn. He sure was getting fucking sentimental now. The manager must have been rubbing off on him. He glanced to the side and saw her, standing in the twilight rays of the setting sun. Smiling in the same way he was.


	3. Chapter 3

Right after watching Mamori’s plane disappear into the clouds, Hiruma tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. Then he turned around, heading for the exit. His pace was fast.

It was something Musashi hadn’t seen in a long time, a show of something off in Hiruma that was more obvious than usual. Most of the time, Hiruma’s emotions were hidden behind deception, lies, and intensely sharp grins. Cackling caricatures bigger than life itself. Even his posture was usually fixed, set with a confident slope. But Musashi supposed the occasion called for this reaction - after all, Mamori was going to be gone for three entire months.

**Author's Note:**

> i don't really write fanfic, but i'm always thinking about hirumamo. here are the scrappiest scraps ever, sorry. this first drabble is unfinished, and i have no idea whether or not i'll continue (school). i wanted to post this, though - i've kept it since october.


End file.
